


The London Battlefield of John Watson

by moriartys_web



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Episode: s02e03 The Reichenbach Fall, Gen, Hurt John Watson, Post-Reichenbach, Post-The Reichenbach Fall, Pre and Post Reichenbach, Pre-Reichenbach, Reichenbach Angst, Reichenbach Feels, Reichenbach-Related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 11:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2149623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moriartys_web/pseuds/moriartys_web
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief writing on John Watson and how his life changed when he met Sherlock Holmes, and how it changed again after he is gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The London Battlefield of John Watson

John, he deserved so much more.

All he came back with from the war in Afghanistan was a shoulder wound, night terrors and a psychosomatic limp. He had his cane and an empty flat. He had fought for many and saved hundreds on the battlefield.

Yet here he was again, back in the combat zone. Except this battleground had the consulting detective and his blogger in the front lines with "crime scene: do not cross" in yellow tape, but John Watson did anyways.

Storming the streets of London with Sherlock, John got that taste of danger he craved down to his bones.

But wars are destructive. They'll take away the people you care about most, and when you think it can't get any worse they will tear you limb from limb.

The entire war him and Sherlock had the upper hand, because all they needed to win a battle was Sherlock's wit and John's hand on the trigger.

Until the Reichenbach battle, the battle that tore Sherlock to pieces, ripping him of his hero status and creating the illusion of a terrorist, leaving his friend to watch from the sidelines.

As warm blood pooled on the pavement and a heart reached its last faint beat John realized he lost, not the war, which he did indeed lose, but his best friend.

This lovely battlefield full of chaos, adrenaline and danger took away the best thing that ever happened to John. A consulting detective, _the_ consulting detective. The man that didn't take John to the battlefield, but took the battlefield to John.

Having the body of his friend pulled away, his hand slipped from Sherlock's wrist and so did everything else, because wars _are_  destructive, because John who saved so many in combat couldn't save his best friend. Because all the army doctor has left now of Sherlock is a stone cold grave of the man he loved but couldn't save. Maybe John was lucky he survived the battlefield, then again maybe he wasn't. Because all he has now are his battle scars; his shoulder wound, night terrors and a psychosomatic limp. His only support comes from a cane and his only refuge is an empty flat.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my bestie Angela who has to put up with my analyzing of everything I write- practically word for word (scratch that definitely word for word). 
> 
> I made a reblogable version of this tumblr if you would like to take a look:  
> http://theholmesnetwork.tumblr.com/post/91702499134


End file.
